


i'll shoulder the load.

by redhoods



Category: UnDeadwood (Web Series)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Massage, Rimming, Strap-Ons, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:15:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24236374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhoods/pseuds/redhoods
Summary: the salve rubs in well, leaves just enough glide for him to dig into the knots in matthew’s back, digging his thumbs into the problem spots until they gave way and matthew groans low and long, slowly but surely melting against the sheets.clayton leans over him, mouths at the back of his neck, “good?”matthew’s answer isn’t really a word so much as vocalized nonsense and another quiet groan, so clayton works at the skin there until matthew shudders, breathes out a quiet, “clayton.”
Relationships: Matthew Mason/Clayton Sharpe
Comments: 5
Kudos: 28





	i'll shoulder the load.

**Author's Note:**

> i don't remember writing this, if i'm honest, but it was in my docs and already finished. minus capitalization which i'm too lazy to do now.
> 
> clayton's trans in this though it doesn't really come up aside from him using a strap.
> 
> title is from devil's backbone by the civil wars.

matthew’s already in when clayton gets home, though it doesn’t look like he’s been there long. with his shoes still on, standing in the middle of the room. he’s rubbing the back of his neck, stretching himself this way and that. clayton watches him for a few minutes, though he’s sorely tempted to snap at matthew about being so unaware of himself, but instead he kicks his shoes off against the wall so they make noise, waits until matthew yelps before he says, “getting old?”

it gets him some grousing, “no,” matthew tells him mulishly, coming up next to him to remove his own shoes.

“how bad?” clayton asks quietly, watching him struggle, sinking down to his knees to undo the laces of matthew’s shoes himself, “you said you were fine, matty,” he accuses, focus on the shoes rather than matthew.

“i was,” matthew admits, “i promise, i was, but the ride back got me.”

clayton sighs quietly, removing one shoe than the second, lining them up next to his own boots, “want a back rub?” he offers, pushing himself up off the floor. there’s a hole in his sock, toe peeking out and he’s been meaning to fix that for a while.

“that’s—” matthew cuts himself off and clayton lifts his gaze, finds matthew’s gaze all soft and liquid, “actually,” he starts, “yeah, okay.”

moving to step away only gets him so far, before matthew’s tugging him back with a hand around his wrist, right back to matthew’s chest, to matthew’s soft smile, his gentle, “hi,” and the dry press of a kiss, doesn’t let matthew pull back just yet. draws him back in to lick into his mouth, until matthew is groaning low and quiet against his mouth.

satisfied, he steps back, “go ahead and get comfortable, lay on the bed,” he instructs quietly as he goes to stoke the fire in the stove. turning to watch matthew struggle out of his shirt, he stops long enough to dig out the bruise salve before he joins him, settling himself on the edge of the bed as matthew shifts pillows around.

eventually, he settles, cheek against the pillow, facing towards clayton, “ready.” stripped down to his smalls, it’s a lot of bare skin to appreciate. or would be usually.

clayton nods, “your back looks like shit,” he says as he finally climbs up on the bed, slides himself astride matthew’s hips. it’s true though, his back is a mess of bruising after he’d gotten thrown from his horse just this morning.

he’d gotten up like it’d been nothing, had been fine for their confrontation with some idiot bandits posted up on the road into deadwood, but the rest of them had been able to tell by the time they’d come back into town. despite matthew’s insistances.

“feels like it,” matthew admits, eyes already closed.

clayton twists open the tin of salve, some concoction of arabella’s that he hasn’t asked the ingredients of and doesn’t plan to. it smells like herbs and nature, even if it feels a little greasy when he rubs it against his palms. 

but it works and he smooths his palms against matthew’s back, up towards his shoulders, back down against the sides of his spine to his sacrum. digs his thumbs in and repeats the circuit but slower, applying pressure now. matthew groans under him, tensing at his shoulders and lower back. clayton leans forward, presses a kiss between his shoulders, “relax.”

matthew’s next inhale actually lifts him up and he exhales slowly, tension easing once more.

“tell me if it’s too much,” he adds, sitting back up to continue.

the salve rubs in well, leaves just enough glide for him to dig into the knots in matthew’s back, digging his thumbs into the problem spots until they gave way and matthew groans low and long, slowly but surely melting against the sheets.

clayton leans over him, mouths at the back of his neck, “good?”

matthew’s answer isn’t really a word so much as vocalized nonsense and another quiet groan, so clayton works at the skin there until matthew shudders, breathes out a quiet, “clayton.”

“yeah, sweetheart?”

“please,” matthew answers, eyes still closed, red across his cheeks and up the tips of his ears, down the back of his neck.

clayton hums against his skin, nips sharply at his shoulder, starts pressing kisses along his back, “since you asked so pretty,” he says, when he reaches the small of matthew’s back, can feel his hips rutting down against the bed. clicks his tongue as he cups matthew’s hips, hauling them up away from the bed, “let me take care of you, matty.”

matthew whines, face turning down into the pillow.

satisfied, he moves his hands, cupping the back of matthew’s thighs, sliding up, rucking the fabric of his smalls before sliding over the fabric to squeeze his ass, up over the swell of it, “want these off, sweetheart?”

matthew garbles some sort of answer into the pillow that’s both affirmative and also maybe a threat so clayton pinches his ass before hooking his fingers in the band of his smalls to draw them down off his hips. he thinks about all the effort that would have to go into fully removing them and instead leaves them around matthew’s thighs.

he kisses one cheek, then the other, cupping them in each hand, squeezes til his nails dig in and matthew’s squirming. “eager,” he teases low as he spreads him wide, leans in to drag his tongue over matthew’s hole.

and matthew groans, face turning against the pillow, mouth open, hips jerking.

clayton digs his fingers into the meat of his ass to keep him still, keeps swiping his tongue against his hole, down against the underside of his cock, hard and leaking against the sheets, over his balls and up against his hole again.

“oh fuck,” matthew slurs.

and clayton pulls back, rubbing his thumb over matthew’s hole, “if you want.”

matthew’s voice cracks around another groan, trying to rock back against clayton’s thumb, “yeah, want.”

“i’ll have to move,” clayton warns, leaning in to lick against matthew again, sliding his hands to get a grip on matthew’s hips to help keep him steady better.

“s’okay, i’m okay,” matthew says. “i can—” he cuts off with a punched out groan, “—i’ll open myself up for you.” 

clayton groans low, lifting up to press his forehead against matthew’s lower back and breathe for just a second, “really are eager for it, huh matty?” he asks, digging his fingers against matthew’s hips, wondering if he can leave bruises in return.

matthew hitches a breath, “for you, yeah.”

“go for it then,” clayton claps his hip and shuffles back on his own heels. as soon as he’s clear, matthew tips on the bed, towards the side table with the oil. it takes him some fumbling to get the drawer to unstick and open before he’s sprawling himself out on the bed, vial in his hand.

his eyes are dark and there’s all urgency, no hesitation in the way he coats his fingers in the oil. and while usually, clayton would tell him to take his time, there’s everything captivating about watching the way matthew immediately sinks a finger into himself, hips rocking against his own hand, head tipping back against the pillow.

then matthew’s head is lifting, “i thought you were getting ready,” he says, impatient, already starting fuck himself with one finger.

clayton huffs quietly, presses his palm against matthew’s thigh, slides his own hand down to press matthew’s finger deep into him, “patience is a virtue, ain’t that what you’re always preaching?”

it gets him a gentle kick to the side and a glare diminished by the flush on matthew’s face or the groan that punches out of him when clayton leans down to lick a stripe up his cock before he gets off the bed. and he takes his time, partially because he’s in no real hurry and partially because he keeps getting distracted by matthew.

he’s loud about his pleasure, always has been, and just fucking himself shallowly with his own fingers seems to be no different. by the time clayton’s got the harness on and is kneeing up onto the edge of the bed, matthew’s up to three fingers, red down his chest.

“clayton,” matthew reaches out for him with his free hand, hauls him close as soon as he’s within range. kisses him sloppy and off center. one of his legs hooks around clayton’s hips, tugging him until they’re chest to chest and matthew’s hips rock up, dragging their cocks together.

“fuck, matty,” clayton says quietly, pulls back to press his forehead to the center of matthew’s chest, rocking his hips against matthew to give him the friction he wants.

at least until matthew’s hands are sliding down his back, palming at him, “c’mon, m’ready,” he urges low.

and far be it from clayton to not give this man what he wants.

he has to dig the oil out of the sheets, while matthew keeps rutting against him, eventually has to plant his hand against matthew’s hip to hold him still so he can slick up his cock, enjoy the way that matthew goes a little glassy eyed at him.

“blue really is—” matthew cuts off with a high whine as clayton presses into him slow and steady, until he’s pressed flush against matthew and matthew’s leg clamps down around his back again, holding him tight.

“good?” he asks low, tilting forward to bracket matthew against the bed, mouths at his jaw and neck while he waits.

matthew huffs out an incredulous sound against the crown of his head that clayton will take as a yes as he rolls his hips in the small amount of wiggle room he’s got.

it makes matthew’s breath hitch and clayton worries a mark at the base of his neck, something that the collar will cover as he rolls his hips again and again, “gotta give me some space if you want me to fuck you, matty.”

the leg around his waist loosens and clayton presses his approval against the line of matthew’s jaw, reaching down to cup his other thigh, pushing it wide until he’s got the leverage to snap his hips. does so, fucking him as hard and fast as he can manage, like he knows matthew likes.

until matthew is practically shouting up at the ceiling.

he releases matthew’s thigh which clamps around his hips, fitting his hand between them to wrap his fingers around matthew’s cock, “i know you’re close, sweetheart,” he murmurs, pushing up to peer down at matthew’s face.

snaps his hips again, grinds deep against matthew, thumbs over the head of his cock, “come on, matty, for me.”

and matthew’s shout is soundless, head pressed back hard against the pillows, body a tense line as he comes, striping his belly and clayton’s hand as clayton rocks against him in gentle presses, easing him through it until matthew’s a panting, trembling mess sprawled flat against their bed.

“so good for me,” clayton murmurs, smearing his mouth against matthew’s shoulder.

he eases back as gentle as he can, doesn’t go far even though he needs to clean them both up, tips onto his side next to matthew, petting a hand down his flank, “that probably just undid all the work i did on your back.”

matthew huffs out a quiet laugh, curling towards him, tucking himself under clayton’s chin, “it’ll be worth it tomorrow.”

“until you can’t stand up right,” clayton teases, rubbing his palm down matthew’s back, “will you actually take it easy if you’re in pain?” he asks, even if he knows the answer.

“will you nurse me back to health?” matthew asks instead, words pressed against his collar, teeth scraping their gentle and then voice a low rumble, “want my mouth?”

clayton hums, “not right now.”

matthew sucks a kiss just below his collar bone, “later then.” then he’s shuffling back, turning until he can put his feet on the floor, “i’ll deal with clean up,” he offers, while clayton appreciates the naked lines of him as he stands and stretches.

“fair trade,” clayton teases.

matthew flips him off and he laughs.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on [twitter](https://twitter.com/vowofenmity).


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